Strongest Bosmer
by Zenke
Summary: Saitama was just a seemingly average man. He had a one bedroom apartment, went grocery shopping, and did his job as a B-Class Super Hero. Well seemingly average was said. On one night, Saitama stumbled a strange wall, now he is in a world full of magic, intrigue, monsters, and Market Stalls. The very foundations will of Tamriel will be shaken. Oh and Saitama turned into a Bosmer.
1. Chapter 1

**Strongest Bosmer- Chapter 1**

Many wonder what is the purpose of existence. Why are we to live, only to die in the end. To surpass our own mortality many people in the past and present have bettered themself, to leave a mark on the Earth. Amongst all others in world history, none were like Saitama. The strongest man to exist.

"I hope I make to the Market in time. That sale is too much to pass up. Even if its night." A man with a sreening bald head and casual demeanor walked through the abyss of night. He wore a strange yellow jumpsuit, complete with a cape, red gloves, and red boots. Calmly trudging against the asphalt, Saitama mulled over the shopping note in his hand. Stuffing the note in his pocket, Saitama looked up to see a strange wall in the middle of the street.

"The heck? Why is there a wall.." Squinting his eyes through the darkness as he approached, the bald hero could see a low illuminating blue light coming from it. As he continued the advance, he couldn't help but feel a strange eerie call to him. Ensnared with curiosity, Saitama could not resist going to the mysterious wall.

 _ **Wundum Hun Saviik~**_

 _ **Wundum Hun Saviik~~**_

 _ **Wundum Hun Saviik~~~**_

That was all Saitama could hear. With each of that phase being...Resonated..Shouted from that wall completely enraptured Saitama's usually perpetually bored psychosis. The sound become deafening, the illumination grew tenfold, and Saitama felt a certain pull towards the wall capture him. "What the!?" was all Saitama blurted out as tendrils of pure energy completely caught him. Despite his god level strength, the hero's effort to escape was utterly useless. The energy then complete engulfed Saitama as if he were a salmon and the tendrils violently pulled back into the wall. A few intense moments of silence waned, until the entire wall collapsed into oblivion.

In a far off ally a lone figure seen the entire incident. "I gotta' lay off da whiskey…" exclaimed a hobo, chucking a cheap looking bottle to shatter against the ally way.

Saitama woke from a blissful dream, having been awoken by odd continuous rocking bumps to his "futon". Slowly opening his eyes and yawning, Saitama instantly realized a few seconds later he was bound by some leather and was in a wagon occupied by three other people. Looking around for even an inch, Saitam also noted that strangely garbed soldiers manned the wagon. The air was very cold, but it fazed him little considering his abilities. They were following another wagon, while it seemed the convoy in general were lead by medium armored head honcho with grey hair. He quickly assessed the dragon symbol flag on each wagon. 'What the...Where in Pangea am I' Saitama thought, multiple locations whizzing around his mind. 'These aren't any Cities emblem I recognize. On top of that, this whole place looks like something out of DnD. Where the hell did that wall take me?' That wouldn't be answered at that time when a blond haired, stubbled blue clad man spoke. "Hey you, you're finally awake huh? Trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that damned Imperial ambush." Ralof took in the Bosmer's appearance, noticing his eerily calm and plain face.

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about? Who are these Imperial guys and why are we tied up?" was all Saitama could manage to utter after hearing that bizarre statement. Ralor signed looking down at the creaked wagon floor, looking back up at Saitama after a few seconds. "Must have amnesia or something. Pity that you will not remember any loved ones or yonder home at all." Saitama adapted an exasperated face of amusement 'Riiigghht..This must be some serious LARP convention or something. I better just see where this goes, since I am at my wits end trying to figure out where in Pangea am I..' He could only nod meekly at Ralof, before turning to man in similar rag attire as he was beginning to speak up. "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you come along. Empire was _nice_ _and lazy._ " The man said putting emphasis on the time the Empire was more lax. "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've been halfway to Hammerfell!" The diminutive faced man turned to Saitama, eyes full of fear. "You and me Bosmer we shou-" That was when Saitama immediately stopped him. "Wait what? What did you call me" A mini scale stare off ensued between Saitama and Lokir, both equally dazed with confusion. 'I assume that amnesia is very bad..' Lokir cleared his throat. "You know..Wood folk, short people, strange customs even for Tamriel..That amnesia got you good if you forgot you own race." At that moment a Saitama's face of surprise turned to his plainest state possible, his eyes becoming more beady. He then noticed his ears twitch signifying that indeed, his physiology was changed. "Ok." That was a word people use for quick confirmation when relayed a message to. The type of Ok Saitama vocalized was the most plainest ever spoken in Nirn, in all of its existence.

Ralof and Lokir looked at the amnesiac Wood Elf for a solid second, trotting and the occasional bump was only heard. Shaking off his daze Lokir looked to his side. "What's wron~" Saitam ignored the banter between the two occupants and looked ahead, past the Legionnaire manning the wagon. Soon they came upon a stone stockade, Empire banners swaying from it. Archers ontop of the walls spotted the convoy and he distinctly heard a command to open the gates. When they fully opened, Saitama caught the General Caesar looking man turn to consort with dark clad...Yellow skinned people. 'This just keeps getting stranger and stranger.' It seems Ralof seen that too, because he started a tirade detesting the man dubbed as "General Tullius" and a newly discovered 'Thalmor' organisation to Saitama. Then it divulged into Ralof's personal life, which he paid little attention too. Instead Saitama took in the feudalistic architecture and realized how realistic it looked. The hay bound roofs, stone walls, the rustic paved road, and the aroma of farm animals. 'I don't think I'm in Pangea anymore…'

"Who are they Daddy? Where are they going?" Curiously yammered a blonde nine year old boy.

"You need to the get inside house, little cub." A older man said with a stern bellow.

Saitama only heard that bit of the conversation before the wagon trudged onward. After a few minutes passing through the swathes of townsfolk and maneuvering through the guard patrols, the convoy stopped at a corner of wall in an open space. "Why are we stopping" Lokir babbled anxiously. Ralof only got up, slightly twisting his body around from the long amount of sitting. "Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go, we shouldn't leave the gods waiting." Ralof chuckled darkly strolling off the wagon into a quickly forming single file line. The gagged lavishly dressed dirty brown haired occupant stood up aswell and trotted off. Lokir got up on shaking legs, but didn't move at all. Saitama got up casually as if he was at a beach and moved off the wagon too.. He could hear Lokir get down after him and he stood forward in line, his face impossibly calm for a situation this macabre.

A lean, but well built brown haired man in Legion uniform waited until all the prisoners were in order. He had no helmet to speak of, only caring a quill and pen. "Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." Ralof audibly growled. "Empire loves their damn lists." Said Ralof with pure menace in his voice. Saitama noticed both the Imperial soldier and Stormcloak militiaman glare at each other, but he writ if off as factional hatred as far as he has been catching unto this.

Hadvar looked unto the book and began speaking everyone Stormcloak soldiers name off in the line. When he caught up to Lokir he attempted to running off, pleading his case and declaring he wouldn't be killed...Until a barrage of arrows pierced his back in a gruesome succession. He laid on the rustic stone floor, as a pool of blood trickled from his back onto the floor. "Anyone else feel like running?" A bronze skinned petite woman spoke up. Saitama noted she must have been an officer. The Imperial soldier and officer's attention turned towards Saitama, him being the last prisoner to be processed. They took in his strange demeanor. 'Something is off about this man..His face is so plain and too calm..' Hadvar undulated in his head.

"Who are you?" The book wielding Imperial asked, quill ready. Saitama merely stared back for a few seconds before answering. "I am Saitama, a hero for fun."

….

Hadvar and the Imperial officer only responded with flabbergasted faces. Why in the sixteen planes of oblivion would bring to say that? "R-right, not many wood elves would choose to come alone to Skyrim by themselves. I see why no one went with you" Hadvar stammered out. He deferred to his Officer, noting he was not on the prisoner manifest. "Captain, he is not on the list. What should we do." The Captain only stared at Saitama with a ambivalent face before decreeing an order. "Forget the list, he goes to the block."

Hadvar widened his eyes in partial shock, before sighing. 'That figures.' He could only think. The Empire usually did that type of last minute stuff, considering how stretched out they were. "By your orders Captain. Follow the Captain prisoner."

Saitama answered with a brief 'ok', before heading to the assembled line of Stormcloak POWs. Everyone could see General Tullius smile mockingly at the bear fur cloaked man, getting said man to intensely glare back. The smile from the General dissipated and he equally stared back with hatred. "Ulfrik Stormcloak. Some here in Helgem deem you as a hero and martyr. But a hero doesn't use use a power like The Voice to murder his king and attempt to usurp his throne!" Ulfrik practically yowled in anger under his gag. He probably had a _**LOT**_ to say to Tullius with his voice. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

Suddenly a distant, but brazen roar could be heard leagues away somewhere. It left a foreboding feeling in everyone, but Saitama. A few seconds of silence passed, Hadvar had spoken up. "What was that?" He said with alarm. Tullius alofted his hand in a dismissive manner. "It's nothing. Carry on." The Captain walked forward to the headsman block, her face the very definition of determined. "Yes General Tullius. Give them their last rites." Captain said stoicly, motioning toward a yellow and brown robed woman. She began the rites when a disgruntled Stormcloak soldier told her to shut up and wanted to get it over with. A scornful look of disgust and pity adorned the priestess's face. "As you wish." She muttered before walking to the back with the rest the clergy. The red haired rebel proudly walked up to the chopping block, no sense of grim on his face. The Headsman chuckled to himself, never seeing any that eager to be done away with. Kneeling down and be assisted by the Imperial Captain..More like slightly kicked, the red headed rebel stuck his neck on the gap. The soldier smiled in mocking glee.

"Come I haven't got all a lifetime. My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same?" His only response to that was the Headsmen hefting his mighty axe and flocking it toward the Stormcloak's bare neck. Saitama watched in slight horror, as the soldier's neck was bisected. The blood splurted from all directions, mostly forming a puddle in the box where the head lay. Sure there were casualties when he fought monsters...But this? It just left a nauseating feeling in his stomace.

Ralof sighed in sadness. "As fearless in death, as he was in life." It was a short eulogy to the man, but it was enough for a man who was executed by decapitation. A few cries of disapproval for the execution were heard, while some could be chanting for the continued doom for the Stormcloaks.

The Captain turned towards me and pointed at Saitama. "Next the Elf!" She barked up. 'Hmmm...What should I do. I can easily bailout, but they know what my face looks like and, if I go abroad...Ugh, I'll figure something on the way. Saitama trudged forward with the most disinterested look the anyone has ever seen before. A few people mummered around the crowd. Everyone noticed this, some being struck with awe, with others were unnerved by the uncanny calm the exuded from Saitama.

With each step a plan slowly, but surely came to him. 'Ok, I'll just let the axe hit me. The thing will break apart completely.' If he only had trained for two years, it would be risky, but Saitama had trained another additional fives years; Past the third year as time continued on. He met many friends along the way and learned different things. But now was not the time to reminisce. After a mind numbing suspenseful stroll, Saitama finally made it up to the block. The Captain narrowed her eyes. She despised men who wasted her time it seemed. "That took you long enough knife ears, kneel down toward the block." Saitama looked onto the Captain for a few seconds before shrugging nonchalantly. What was with this execution? Why did it seem like a mage seminar for the theoretics of mysticism for this strange Bosmer? He had no discernible expressive at all.. Saitama knelt before the chopping block and frowned deeply at the pale corpse _**right**_ next to him. 'Couldn't they have dragged this corpse away? Seriously….' He felt the tell-tale sign of a metal boot come upon his back. Something was amiss though, no matter how laboriously the Captain tried to kick Saitama budge, the Human turned Bosmer would not budge. A few townsfolk near the block noted that. Some chuckled voicing that a woman shouldn't do a man's job, while others were confused. Saitama himself finally lay his neck against the gap, woefully disgusted at the blood rubbing onto his skin. With his head turned to an angle to his left, he could promptly the Headsman's impassive face bore unto with the utmost concentration. With his axe wielded in both hands horizontally midriff of himself, the Headsman hefted his axe and raised it above his head. No sense of dread or fear etched its features upon Saitama at all, making the sanctioned head lopper creeped with foreboding.

That's when suddenly a thunderous roar of malice and power streaked across Helgan. Townspeople were struck with fear as the sky was cast into a hazy ash red. From over a few peaks away, a gigantic beast of flight landed on the tower over looking the executioning area. Tremors from that landed could be felt all around Helgan, many Townsfolk instinctively running. Jet black jagged scales and blaring red eyes surveyed the collected body of Humans, before literally shouting a force of extreme energy. Saitama looked on with boredom as the Headsman was blasted feet away into a wall away from him. 'That's my escape plan I guess.' The Dragon flew back into the air, wings flapping in place as it streamed a deadly fume of fire over the houses.

Saitama easily break out his binds, the leathers whizzing off into different directions at mach speed. He did a few lunges and stretched his arm before looking up at the flying dragon. Some amidst all the souls clammering and running in fear, the Dragon one noticed one Bosmeri look straight at him. ' **What is this foolishness? A mere puny Bosmer dares challenge me?** ' Alduin thought in anger. No mortal could be this arrogant! As the meteors fell from the sky as if mortal fire, Saitama rubbed his neck nonchalantly before jumping extremely far up towards Alduin. The god was dumbstruck, the End Eater of prophecy never seeing such a feat from a mortal, much less a Bosmer. A few archers firing at the Dragon noticed this too, completely awestruck.

When Saitama could not reach Alduin in one jump it seemed, he landed on a fast moving meteor and began lilly hopping on each one that passed. Jumping from barrage after barrage, Alduin had enough of that and an immense streak of flame jetted towards Saitama. The super Elf merely spun in an extremely fast twister-like motion, the wave of flame hugging the impossibly formed mini tornado turrets and dissipating into oblivion when Saitama landed on another meteor. The Dragon could not even begin to comprehend what just happened, before it could think any further Saitama jumped off the meteor, blazing towards the jagged scaled Dragon at top speeds. He clasped his fingers together and cocked his fist back. Time seemed to slow as Saitama was in high air, Alduin a inches up from him in the air. Alduin could see it's life flash before it's eyes, from being put into existence, ruling Skyrim with a tyrannical maw, being defeated and sent into the currents of time, and now this. The Dragon felt a certain fear, something he never felt before prolapsed through his entire being. " **What is this!** " It roared in Dragon Tongue. The answer it received was only a extremely loud sonic boom whittling the area, the massive shock wave parting the entire skyline and instantly clearing the hazy sky back to its normal hue. All the meteors absolved into dust, flaking the entire ground of Helgan with space dust. Audible bone deep creaks could be heard from above and all the Townsfolk either stopped running or hiding, looking up.

Before them all in an awe defining sight, the World Eater had its maw gaped. All the Townsfolk only caught a merely glimpse of the lifeless Dragon, before the ensuing shockwave jettisoned the carcass at mach 2, a speed no one in this Era of development had ever seen before. Saitama swiftly fell toward the ground casually, his singhed rag clothing and foot wraps whipping through the air currents as he fell. Crevices formed under his feet as he landed, Saitama merely in a crouched positioned for what seemed like hours. Finally getting up, Saitama looked at his fist in complete exasperation. "One Punch again?" Sombrely concluded Saitama. He really wished something could give him a challenge.

Everyone was completely awe-struck at the beragged Elf...Not ONLY did he slay a Dragon seen centuries ago, he did so with one punch. No one could say anything as the Bosmer sheepishly looked onto his tanned fist, shaking his head in disappointment.

It was then that Tamriel would change forever.

 _ **To be continued!**_

 **AN:** That was my first ever story! I really hoped you liked it and any type of review is welcome. I will continue this with a sporadic schedule as summer nears to an end, but I hope you like this first Chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Imperial Holdup- Chapter 2**

After the whole incident, tumultuous round of cheers, general chaos, and people drinking copious amounts of mead, everyone was relieved that the Dragon was feld! Even Imperial soldiers shared bottles with the Stormcloak POWs. The Helgan Townspeople were mystified by their savior, hordes of people whittling down Saitama with praise and questions. They could not comprehend any mortal to desolate a Dragon with a single blow, much less a Bosmer! Saitama ironically did not favor this attention, even though back in Pangea he was labeled a cheat or fluke. He just wasn't used to this attention in general. His short stature provided he could barely see anything as the tall Nordic people flocked all around him, voices going fast as his own super speed.

A squadron of Imperial soldiers would be wading through the crowd, moderately pushing the mass of people away with their Imperial shields. At the helm of this squadron was the Military Governor of Skyrim himself, General Tullius. As he neared that front of the crowd, the last line of Townsfolk instinctively got out the way. There was a silence that breached the merry atmosphere. Not one of awkwardness seen so far, but a calm distinguishing solemn respect for this mysterious Wood Elf.

A single sweat drop beaded down Saitama's head as it was certainly awkward for him. Tullius just stared at Saitama, his eyes moving around in his sockets like a mad jig only that could have been only rivaled to Sheogorath himself. The General analyzed Saitama's form, nothing being left to not be mulled over. "What are you." Rasped Tullius, his expression neutral, but in a deep state of confusion on the inside. The super Elf merely signed at having to explain himself again.

"Like I said, I am a hero for fun." Everyone was looked intently at the scene before them, dazzled by the Saitama's declaration. General Tullius calculated on what to say next. How could he respond to something like that? It wasn't so far fetched though, since he literally seen this Mer kill the first Dragon seen in centuries with one punch. His tunic rustled as a wind whipped past him, breathing in some residual space dust. "Come with me." That was all he could come up with. The greatest tactician the Empire had to offer, had just attempted to convince probably the strongest entity on Tamriel with that mere half hearted command. Saitama only looked at Tullius with his usual plain face. "Ok"...Really that was it? He was persuaded that easily to come with him, even after the Empire wanted to execute him? Tullius did not have the privilege to think about that further, since has presented with this opportunity.

"Alright, follow me to the Keep. We will reward you greatly, hell the Emperor himself will probably sanction you a Saint." Tullius chuckled at his own joke, before going back to his business face. He motioned for the Troopers to rear escort Saitama, while Spearmen flanked him on either side. The rest of the squadron formed a loose circle around him. They marched as Tullius walked toward the keep. The crowd began to dissipate as they could not see the newly legendary hero, but some lingered to watch the Guard escort take him to the Keep Head Quarters. Walking to itself was brief, only taking three minutes Saitama guessed. His enhanced Mer hearing picked up snippets of conversation from nearby Guard positions, elatedly revering Saitama. He ignored it for the most part, but he could not help the feel of satisfaction. He was finally recognized for his heroic deeds. Some could say he was jubilant, but no one could ever know as his face remained plain as a potato.

The Keep itself was a average sized inner fort of Helgan. The most distinguishing part was the tower that jutted out the Keep, most likely to keep tabs on activity outside the walls. Saitama was completely quiet the whole way, not uttering a word. Soon enough the convoy was dismissed when they arrived in a large circular area. Waiting for Tullius and Saitama was a beautiful yellow skinned tall woman, her hair was flowed natural down onto her back. She held a certain arrogant demeanor and a resting bitch face. Accompanying her were equally tall Mer in gold plated armor and sheeny blue sheaths on their hips. Saitama finally began to speak after the walk over here. "So what's the deal now? I need to be released so I can figure out a way home." The black clad woman smiled at Saitama, but he knew it wasn't genuine.

"Reports inform me that you're the Mer who deems himself "a hero for fun". This is true, yes?" Ugh, how many times did he need to remind these people! "Yes, my name is Saitama. I awoke suddenly in a land I know nothing about and not hours later I beat a stereotypical Dragon in this stereotypical village." Tullius was mildly amused at his mocking interjection, but Elenwen frowned and raised her eyebrow. "Hmm yes. The Thalmor would like to question you. It's not everyday a fellow Mer defeat a Dragon." Elenwen had to be _staunch_ with this Bosmer. He exhibited signs of a possible Wizard of extreme power, not felt since Vanus Galorion. It seemed that he was one of those out of Valenwood province born Wood Elves, since she was not currently at the reaching end of that...Energy...As soon as the Bosmer clenched his hand, she felt a spike of energy that was not even mana, but she felt it nonetheless for his magical affinity. When she conferred with her Battlemage retainers, they confirmed on what she felt. He was an asset she could not let go of.

Saitama merely shrugged nonchalantly. He surely can answer a few questions. It's not let he cannot find his home by himself in this situation. "Go ahead." Elenwen began a series of interrogational like questions at Saitama, the barrage of questions hitting him harder with each response he gave. After about twenty minutes, Tullius decided enough was enough. "Alright, you've asked the Mer enough questions already Elenwen." For the whole half hour Elenwen didn't even ask him questions that related to where he even came from, or who was he exactly. She just wanted information on his abilities, but they were only magical questions in particular. Thus they never learned the secrets to his ability. Elenwen bore a face of reigned frustration. Apparently he wasn't a magic user at all. No matter how many times he said he didn't know a particular answer, she just _knew_ he must have had a magical technique no one has heard of before.

Now in current time, Elenwen turned to the Tullius with a face of disapproval. If he wasn't the Governor, Tullius assumed Elenwen would just shirk away anything Tullius had said. But that was not the case. "As you wish General. This interview is now over." She gave Saitama one last look as her and the Thalmor Justicars left to the exit of the Keep. The super Bosmer simply sighed in relief that the questioning was over with...More like interrogation with the tools. "Don't worry about the Thalmor. Their not but a conglomerate of knee deep Elitists who are spread thin." Tullius contemplated this before adding on. "Spread deep just as the Empire aswell…" He looked over Saitama and a pitied look glanced over his face. "Let's get you out those rags." Both Men and Mer strolled across the many corridors of the Keep, Saitama steadfast to keep up and not get lost.

After a few minutes they reached the armory of the Keep. In the room were a plethora of Imperial armor, weaponry, maintenance tools, and much supplies neatly strewn about. Tullius began searching for a Imperial light armor that might fit the Bosmer, while Saitama looked around slightly in awe from all this medieval looking things around him. This definitely trumps any museum back in Pangea, big time. Finally Tullius held up a standard Studded Imperial Armor. "Eh? What makes you think I'll wear your Empire's get up with you tried to execute me?" Saitama was baffled at Tullius even presenting him with the uniform. How could he have such a small memory for a Governor? "Listen that is all water under the bridge now. You saved all these people and considering that you killed a Dragon with one blow, is testament that a mere axe cannot slay you" Tullius responded gruffly. What can he do? Casualties always happened in the midst of war. War never changes, the Mer should know this. "Hmm..I guess you're right...General Tullius. I'll put it on, but only since I really want out these rags." The Tullius merely nodded. "Fair enough."

Saitama took the Studded Imperial Armor and went behind a pillar. It took him a few minutes to figure out the straps and buckles, but his past experience made him adept in equipping this armor, or "costume" in Saitama's case. He kept his foot wraps as socks and put on some Imperial boots he found against the wall. Going away from the pillar, Tullius saw Saitama and gave him a genuine thumbs up. "You look like a ready made Legionnaire." All the super Mer could utter was this: "What's with the skirts though? I'm not really the crossdressing type." A large bulbous bead of sweat ran down General Tullius's head. He decided to ignore that when Saitama began to speak up. "Hey can I see that flag on the wall?" Tullius had no idea why he would want it, so he was curious. "Aye, you can see it.." Saitama had his eye on a medium sized Imperial flag on the wall. When he finally neared it, he gazed at it for an unnatural long few seconds, before grabbing it off the wall.

The General was completely stupefied by what Saitama was doing, then he realized Saitama wrapped the flag as a cape. Tullius never in his years ever seen a common civilian wear a cape for the heck of it, but Saitama was not ordinary was he…"Huh, perfect match and fit." He turned towards General Tullius. "Alright, I have a few questions abo-" He was rudely interrupted when a Quaestor burst through the armory doors. "General Tullius! There is an ongoing riot between the POWs and Garrison! Ulfric escaped through the chaos, but the riot still ensues!" The Imperial merely sighed in exasperation. This day was officially ruined for him. He turned towards Saitama. "You wanna help?" It only took Saitama seconds to nod his head. The Stormcloaks could pose a threat to Helgan if a full scale battle broke out. Better nip the Riot in the bud.

Saitama, General Tullius, and the Imperial Quaestor ran with all their might across the cross the corridors and rooms of the Keep. Well, Tullius and the Quaestor that is. Saitama didn't want to blaze through them since he needed to know where this Riot was taking place. Coupled with the fact he had no idea how to get out. Finally, the group made it to the prison wing of the Keep. The Processing Bay was plagued in a bloody bout of violence. Swathes of Stormcloak rebels fought against Imperial Troopers, the smell of blood and sweat permeating the entire wide rectangular area. The signature clank of blade amongst blade could be heard everywhere in the area.

They Stormcloaks can be viewed having relieved some Imperial weaponry to fight against their captors, while a sizable majority of them fought against Imperial Swordsmen with daggers. They Imperials were swiftly cutting down the rebels, but the Stormcloaks outnumbered them by a great deal as not many Legion were stationed in Helgan. Tullius and the Quaestor drew both their blades. Saitama just stared at this scene with a calm almost bored expression, but on the inside Saitama was beyond disgusted. This carnage had to end. Tullius was engaged with a spear wielding Stormcloak, while the Quaestor disappeared in the bulk of the Riot. Saitama had to stop this quickly. Raising his hands in a wide horizontal arc, the super Elf clapped his hands together causing an immense wind turret to encapsulate the entire Processing Bay. The gust of wind rocketed everyone in the room onto either the floor, ceiling, ground, or even a few tables. Objects of all kinds flew around, disheveling the entire area, if it wasn't ruined enough from all the blood and viscera. Everyone groaned in pain from the impact they all individually felt or were put into more pain the injuries that they received from battle before Saitama intervened.

General Tullius and a few hardy Praefects were the first to recover. General Tullius ordered all the Stormcloaks to be binded immediately and a few Auxiliaries who refrained from battle began rebinding each Stormcloaks. Soon enough, most of the Legion and Stormcloaks recovered and the status quo came back to be. The Stormcloaks made a short lived riot, but ultimately were stopped. Bodies from both sides of the Riot were dragged out. Saitama just watched it all, finally realizing death must be common just as his planet.

Tullius went up to Saitama and clasped his shoulder, having the brightest smile he had seen so far from this place. "Good job Saitama, you have really done right by the Empire and many people." Saitama shrugged while retaining a smirk. "It's what I do. I'm a hero for fun." Tullius grew fond of this Mer, there was something in him that reminded him when he was younger. Suddenly Saitama adopted a very serious face. He turned toward General Tullius, the Imperial was baffled at Saitama's face. Somehow his face grew an extraordinary amount of detail. "Where. Am. I." General Tullius sighed. This was going to be a longed explanation

 **An:** Sorry for the relatively short chapter, but I wanted to get out this to further the plot along. Don't worry, more action will ensue in Chapter 3 ; )


	3. Chapter 3

**Jagged Punch- Chapter 3**

One week had passed since the Dragon incident in Helgen. General Tullius had filled Saitama on Skyrim and the rest of Tamriel, much to the Elf's distraught. He had somehow ended in a world filled with magic, deep seated internal strife, and whole web of subplots of conspiracy. How could he had ended up in a place like this? General Tullius and many Imperial Tribunes had to sort out the incident at Helgen. Saitama had nowhere to go, so he stayed in the barracks of the Helgen Keep. Many soldiers were spooked in awe to talk to him. Soon enough word spread about the Bosmer and how the Imperial Legion had a super elf who slayed a Dragon with one blow.

Initially many people around Skyrim were skeptical, but many first hand accounts from nearly 100+ people dissolved any disbelief that the rumor was fake. That many people wouldn't tell misinformation about that incident, it was too ridiculous to make up. No one knew who actually Saitama was, so he was only deemed One Blow Man by the whole of Skyrim. Soon the information of Saitama spread like wildfire across Cyrodiil, Hammerfell, and Highrock in just one week. Summerset Isles of course were alerted of this "Super" Elf through the liaison and spy network operation to keep tab on the civil war. Everyone was baffled about what exactly happened and tourism exponentially increased in Helgen.

Scruffy and ill-kempt "warriors" roamed the wide once peaceful streets of Helgen, looking to challenge this Legionary Bosmer. Hell Saitama didn't even know why everyone thought he was Legionary despite only wearing their armor, cape, and staying in their Keep...Actually he couldn't really blame them for thinking that. He felt guilty that his publicity caused all this uproar in a once quiet town like this, but he had to stop that Dragon. The Legion kept all the visitors at bay, but crime increased at an exponential level.

Saitama awoke in the cow skin bed. Sweat from the summer heat outside trickled down him as he slowly sat up in the bed. Today was monday, week 2 in this fantasy world he had somehow ended up in. Correction, Morndas as he was told. He sighed and got up from bed, heading to the chest provided to all infantry. By now Saitama had become a pro at putting on the Studded Imperial Armor, so it was a breeze as putting on a T-shirt. Next he donned on the Imperial flag neatly folded at the bottom of the chest. He didn't know why he wore this, considering this exact flag represented the very Empire that wanted him executed. He figured to wear this since there was no distinct substitute for his original cape.

What was he going to do today? If he were to go outside, he would be flocked with people asking him questions. They already knew an obscure description about him, with the most prominent feature was his bald head. Bosmer that are bald were very rare, so they would know instantly who he was. Looking to his side Saitama saw a plain leather Imperial helmet. "Perfect." Grabbing it quickly, he put it on and found it quite fitting. "Huh, why didn't I think of this before?" This tactic would be sure to cloak him from attention. Many different races served in the Legion, so he would come off as just some grunt. Now all had to do was navigate this maze of a Fortress. "Darn it…"

He walked for a literally hours trying to find the exit. He passed many different ranks of Imperial and function, of all whom were in awe of Saitama. There was a small minority who considered Saitama a fluke though, so he received a couple of annoyed glares his way. He just responded with his usual blank fish face expression, which unnerved a good few.

Finally he made it out to the courtyard of the Keep. General Tullius gave him his reward money and gave him some stuff called "septims"..They were basically coins that were gold, that had an old man emblazoned on them, with a Dragon as well. Yeah, he definitely found them weird. The thing that annoyed him about this currency that there were no "short cut" currency like yen had. He would have to meticulously count out the amount of septims he had to pay. It fettered him little, since he was an avid Market Man.

Breathing in the fresh air, he passed the passage guards for the courtyard and immediate was greeted with a sight of literally a thousand of people milling about Helgen. Even from his position at the exit of the courtyard, he could make out campfire outside the walls. It is worse than he imagined. Saitama waded past the sea of people, steadfastly attempting to make it to the market place. All around the atmosphere was one of a seedy den of a Bar, but outside. He could see people loitering in the streets, bandits…"Warriors" gambling, _**prostitutes**_ selling their bodily wares, and shady robed alchemists most likely selling skooma. How did it get like this? Sure the Garrison here got overwhelmed, but letting it get to this?

He just hoped he got to the Market Place without any trouble. It was then he heard a mirror shattering scream in an alley, tucked between two stone quarries. Saitama jinxed it. A few people near him in the crowd reacted to it, lifting their heads up in alarm. Only in a few seconds after they went back to what they were doing. How could he ignore the obvious cry for help? The super Elf sighed to himself turning to where his enhanced Mer hearing heard the scream. Running to it at a speed never even imagined before in the entirety of Mundus, he bum rushed many of pedestrians scampering about out of his way. What he came upon next made Saitama want to facepalm. An Imperial Tribune, old man, was being held up by a couple of vagrants. Not minutes away from the Keep an this old coot gets in a douzy. "Alrighta' Imp, hand over ya septims and we'ila consider to not gut ya like a horker." That line was so cheesy it made him hungry. He really coulde go for a burger right now. Three bandit attire clad vagrants encircled the officially dressed Tribune. The leader wielded a rusty steel dagger, while the other two respectively had an iron warhammer and orcish short sword. Saitama began to walk down the alley, surprisingly undetected. Maybe his usual quiet demeanor made him quite stealthy, but he didn't mull over it. Tapping the shoulder of the strongest of the three, the big Redguard turned to him.

"What? We got trouble boys!" The Bandit hefted his warhammer, aiming to clob Saitama as he turned around to face him. The warhammer soared mightily through the air and clubbed him straight on his head…' _What in the eight divines!'_ All the thug could see was the head of his prized weapon, the only one he could afford really, blitz off the Imperial's head. Newly sized chunk of iron whizzed straight unto the the orcish blade wielding Bandit. An audible bone shatter could be heard and by the time everyone looked in that direction, he was already stone cold dead.

A silence echoed across the decrepit alley. The Redguard looked at the now delimbed shaft turned broken broom. "What in oblivo-" A gurgled streak of blood spilled out from the Redguard's mouth as he was lifted a few feet off the ground. Saitama held back as much power as he could, hopefully he did not die. Eyes bulging out, the thug passed out seconds later. The Super Elf shook the man off his fist and turned to the remaining thug. He shakily pointed his dagger at Saitama, in complete disbelief of what was happening. "W-who the h-hell are you!" Merely smirking, Saitama cocked his fist. "I'm a hero for fun." With a powerful heave, Saitama streaked his fist straight at the leader. At the last possible moment, he stopped his fist from punching the thug, causing an enormous gust of wind to encompass the already constricted alleyway.

Saitama's cape flipped around madly as the wind flung everywhere, plethora of stones and garbage went everywhere. Widened eyes were etched on the Imperial Tribune's face as he watched the thug literally be shot through the wall of the quarry, through a few levels, and then through the roof into the sky screaming all the way. Bulbous clots of sweat were on Saitama's face. _'I overdone it on that one..'_ After a few minutes of silence, the elderly Imperial Tribune leaned heavily on his staff. He had to get clarity of what he seen.

"What in the blazes was that? How did you survive that blow! Are you a Battlemage? Did you use a _wind_ destruction magic? Illusion, alteration, mysticism, what?" Again with someone assuming he knew a split of magic. "Ah, sorry sir, I don't know any magic at all." Stupefied was the the expression on the Tribune's face. "Ugh, I'm getting very old. Young Mer, would you mind taking me to the Keep? I fear another attack with these unsavory characters about." Saitama sighed and nodded. He really was hungry, but he had to make sure this Tribune was safe. They were relatively close to the Keep so the walk was brief. The Tribune said he would put in a good word for the Elf, but Saitama corrected him and told him that he was merely a "guest" at the Keep. A promotion was impossible. "Damn shame I say. With the pit the Empire is falling into these days, it would be rather good to have a strong person such as yourself." Saitama only politely smiled and walk off back into the sea of people.

Maybe he should join this Empire. He didn't know when or how to get back home, much less anyone with the knowledge of different universes besides this one. The concept was pretty sci-fi, so no dice. Through a far off comparison, the Hero Association was basically like the Empire. Even though the HA was modern and corporate, they acted basically like the military arm of Pangea, stopping to fight extremely high level threats regular police could not handle. This Empire was basically the same thing, but basically controlled most of the known world.

Saitama looked at the Imperial bracer on his wrist as he thought of this. Looking it up, the hero for fun realized he FINALLY made it to the Market Place. This place had low activity, since only the homebodies of this town shopped here and had more homogeneous cohesion. They were more likely to stop thefts this way. Keep a plain face on, he shopped for what seemed like hours. When it came to the after noun, he had a sack full of food. Why did he even buy all this stuff? Food was provided at the barracks. Force of habit he assumed.

Strolling past a few villagers, a few looked at him in familiarity. They were coming onto him, so he had to move face. Saitama speed "walked" past the villagers. Dust clouds followed him as he sped away, hoping to get to the Keep without hassle. That's when a mob of "Warriors" flocked around where he was about to walk. This mini scale army was lead by a super buff Orc, with grim dark Jagged Gauntlets. They seemed to sheen in the sunlights gaze, maybe magically imbued Saitama thought. The Orc himself wore weird old looking armor and had a sagely arrogant look on his face.

"So, you're this miracle I've been hearing about a lot. I seek to duel you. If I am to win against you, I shall be the grea-"

"Shut up." A tense pause accompanied the entire area, the scene now catching regular passerby attention. The orc looked on Saitama with unmasked rage. "You dare tell me to silence myself! Puny Bosmer, I will show you death!" The Orc rose his hands and suddenly huge bolts of ice formed from the newly met Battlemage. It rocketed towards Saitama with a furious chilled belch, not slowing in the slightest. Saitama merely stood there unfazed, much to the surprise of everyone. People watching from the back of Saitama quickly cleared away from him, in prompt fear of what was going to happen.

As the icicle bolts of death neared Saitama by mere millimeters, he batted both spikes with _one_ hand, sending them slightly crushed and flocking it to a couple of trees. Immediately when the solid ice beams impacted, a sizable explosion of ice replaced them after. Everyone was shocked at what they just saw. No one reacted except for Bashnag, who was in complete anger. "Time not to hold back!" An aura of pure frost coated Bashnag, which was amplified by the snowy environment of Helgen. The mob that came with him tampered off some ways feeling the unnatural claw of cold encompass them.

Bashnag floated a few inches off the ground, assisted with his aura, and soared straight toward Saitama. When he was halfway there, he disappeared into an afterimage and appeared right above Saitama. No one could comprehend how he disappeared, but everyone kept silent. Bashnag made a triangle sign with both his hands, summoning a Frost Atronach a few feet away from the Super Elf.

The Atronach roared into life and immediately stomped toward Saitama who had not an ounce of fear etched on it's face. The Atronach swung at Saitama...Who easily dodged the strike. The Atronach made continuous strikes at him, every attempted swing he merely dodged. Bashnag growled in annoyance and decided to turn up the chill. The Battlemage rained a continuous streak of ice bolts at Saitama, adding onto Atronach trying to land a hit. Saitama just sidestepped, hopped, flipped, leaned to the side, and ducked under each attack.

He got fed up with the Atronach. When he routinely flipped up into the air, Saitama turned whilst mid flight raising his fist. Time seemed to slow down as the Super Elf lurched his arm forward, directly hitting the Atronach right in the "face". Mere nanoseconds later it exploded into tiny icicle shards as Saitama landed on his feet. _'T-the rumors were true..This Bosmer really is One Blow Man!'_ Bashnag's anxiousness turned into rage quickly. How dare this lucky fool make a fool of _**him**_! This will not stand at all!

Before Saitama got to stand up completely, Bashnag fazed into an afterimage and appeared right before. The Orc wasted no time and a flurry of punches were sent Saitama's way. Each set of punches increased in intensity as Saitama dodge each one. Inbetween the increasing barrage of punches, Bashnag spawned close impact ice bolts against Saitama, which he swatted away with ease. _'Damnit! This guy won't even attack! I'm running out of magicka..Maybe that's his strategy! Wear me out of mana reserves then finish me off! I've got to end this quick.."_

Bashnag kept up with the strategy of what he was doing. Pouncing off a stream of predictable series of punches and low kicks. This would definitely gull the Elf into believing he wouldn't do anything else. After a few minutes of this routine, Saitama got extremely bored. _'This guy has alot of stamina, I'll give him that, but he can't even lay a hand on me.'_

It was then like always, Saitama jinxed it. Bashnag left an afterimage, finally breaking out this little routine to proceed with this plan. Saitama was mildly surprised to say the least, for he did not see a Bashnag sweeping right toward him with a bicycle kick. Needless to say, it really didn't change the outcome of the battle. As soon as Bashnag's foot connected with his head, he felt as if someone dropped a Horker on his foot. _'What in the name Malachath!'_ It was like Bashnag's foot completely bounced off Saitama's head like a rubber ball. The mere impact twisted his foot backwards and sent him spinning into the stone stockade. A gargantuan indent formed, making Bashnag completely encased in the wall for a few seconds, before falling into the ground.

Saitama looked at his head. "One bald knockout again?" Voiced in exasperation, this universe better have challenges for him or something..He had to admit though, this battle was certain simulating a little and woke him up abit. Meanwhile everyone around him was completely quiet, not finding any words to say. The mob formed by Bashnag had already scurried off, seeing their leader completely annihilated without even being hit.

Saitama took in the assembled crowd and began the walk back to the Keep. His cape flapped valiantly as he strolled back to the Keep. Yeah, he's gonna have to lay low for a few days.

 **An:** Wow, 433 views! That's alot, it really makes me psyched! As you can see, I scaled things up in general to keep things a little interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Black Fist- Chapter 4**

A few days had passed since Saitama had defeated that Orc Battlemage and like a wild fire word spread of the battle quickly. Initially when he got back to the Keep, many praise was sent his way for taking out the main cause of the invasion. Apparently Bashnag had his men "visit" Helgen to attempt to find Saitama. As they all knew, that Orc wasn't even remotely successful in defeating the Bosmer. Eventually many of the other "visitors' promptly left Helgen, their main reason for being there was to try to defeat this Elf they heard about. Many of the would be challengers were spooked on how Bashnag powerfully _kicked_ him and somehow he was immediately crippled, spun at impossible speeds, and crashed straight into the wall like a scamp out of oblivion.

Many realized they were way out their league, so they left for that reason. The more interested harmless tourists didn't cause any trouble. In those few days, Helgen became a small to a prospering tent city. That was because of the sizable portions of tents that dotted the outside of the stockade. Most of these new residents were scholars either curious about this "Super" Elf or mystified by the meteorite evidence left by the Dragon.

In those few days though, Saitama was extremely bored. He was reduced to looking through a plethora of books concerning Tamriel and recent years from the Keep Library. Some were outdated, while a couple of rare gems gave him a lot of information of this place. He had to admit that this "Nirn" planet he was sent to was very interesting. It was almost similar to Pangea, since his home planet was also a super continent. But the similarities diverged in so many ways that he didn't want to think of them all.

In present time Saitama was nonchalantly strolling around the halls of the Keep, partially lost. He trained a few hours ago and wanted to shower, so for a good couple of minutes he walked around aimlessly. It was then he realized how stupid he was and the weight of this whole situation dawned upon him. ' _T-there are no bathrooms here..No TV, no oven, no fan, Genos is not here, NO MORE SALES, no more modernity!~'_ Saitama gripped his head in exasperation. Sure he was the strongest entity in this existence, but it was a cold jab to his chest. These were rare moments when emotion surfaced from Saitama and usually they were very explosive in nature. After a few minutes of animately panicking, he got a hold of himself.

Silently he began to weigh the current options he had. Recently Saitama interacted with many of the Townsfolk who somewhat idolized him for saving them all from certain doom. He was back to square one when it came to his employment situation, so maybe he could land a job with one of them? He blew through a lot of septims buying vegetables, meat, and condiments he didn't even need since food was served in the Mess Hall. That prompted him to become acquainted with the kitchen staff very well. It had become a little routine these past few days for him to bring food for the Kitchen to cook. They generally acted normal to him, despite him being dubbed as 'One Blow Man' by many people in this country and beyond. He also particularly became a really close friend to the head chef, Adratus Mantino. Imperial names were _very_ confusing to Saitama. Usually whenever he met Adratus in the beginning, he would get his name wrong every single time.

This would cause the prideful chef to bop Saitama every single time with a **pan**. It didn't hurt, not even remotely close to any damage, but the mere thought of being hit with that pan made him cringe. He figured that he could land a job in the kitchen, since his cooking was very competent. After a few seconds of deliberation, he decided he was going to work with the Kitchen staff. Clenching his hand in determination whilst turning and walking the Mess hall, Saitama will get back on his feet!

 **OoOoOoOooOoooO**

An eerie half darkness encompassed the entire room, the only source of light being a row of candles set upon the table. Shrouded faces could be made out across each side of the table, stark silence and calculated killing intent only described from their eyes. From the main table set for the original seven, multitudes of shadowy figures could be seen standing, crouching, leaning on unseeable darkened walls, while some hung from support beams overwatching the meeting.

The first to speak from the original seven was an elderly crone of a man, wrinkles embedded themselves like trenches on his face. His eyes shone lightly of ambient frost. "As we all know, we have received a contract that will define the very foundation of the Brotherhood. Someone who is powerful above anything we will ever face." A tense foreboding silence filled the air, all the assembled assassins paying precision cut attention to what was being briefed. Next a man with a red turban, bearded face, and dark complexion spoke up.

"His name is "Saitama". We can tell he is an anomaly from his non-Bosmeri name. The information we have on this Mer is that he was captured at near the Cyrodiil-Skyrim border. After defeating the first Dragon ever seen in centuries, he currently resides with the Keep based in Helgen. From first hand accounts he was seen wearing Imperial uniform, so we can assume he may have joined the Empire." Immediately after the Redguard finished that tidbit of information, a cat eyed female Dunmer with an eerie aura of magic spoke up. "That doesn't make sense." She tokered out. "The Imperials wished to execute him. Why would he join them?" Soon an Argonian of very sharp wit responded to the query. "Simple: He must have suffered a certain degree amnesia. The contract in question was reported to have been unconscious on the way from Helgen from the initial ambush. He either doesn't remember anything and the Empire are using it to their advantage to recruit him or he has nowhere else to go." At the head of the table, a steel faced woman with an eminence of viper-like deadliness spoke up from the head of the table.

"Correct Veezara. Our scouts reported no activity of this Saitama character ever leaving the Keep. It is doubtful that they have imprisoned him, considering his strength and being a possible asset. All we need to know it is that many people want this Mer dead. Many enemies of the Empire don't want to see such a thing of power be in it's hands. Thus in effect, we received many contracts at once to do away with him." A burly nordic man of snow white hair growled out loudly, clearly not like the odds at hand. "I'll take a task force of the strongest men we have. He will be dead by Loredas." The turbaned Redguard looked toward the Nord and sighed. Always Arnbjorn wanted to rush things without surgical finesse. "No you proud _mighty_ Nord. Brute force will only get you and many brethren killed. I have a plan that will get us close enough to _one blow_ this contract." Nazir smiled at his own joke, while a majority of the Brotherhood were deathly silent. A few Assassins audibly chuckled. Not everyone didn't have a sense of humor.

Nazir feigned a mock cough to break the awkward silence. Within the next few hours the plan was explained onto the entire organisation and soon it was set in motion. Saitama was sentenced to death.

 **OoOoOoOooOoooO**

"Sorry Saitama, I'm afraid the Kitchen is full of staff already." A short man with a pencil thin mustache in stereotypical Chef attire looked at Saitama with an expression of guilt. The Super Mer sighed in annoyance. His typical bad luck with employment was surfacing again, which irked him to no end. It was like a job God followed him everywhere to give him bad luck with anything work related. Whatever he did to this theoretical God or how it followed him to this universe, Saitama would never know.

Adratus cusped his chin in thought for a moment, before he snapped in his fingers in remembrance. "Wait, I heard the the Quartermaster in the supply wing is looking for some Couriers. Maybe that would suit your fancy?" Saitama's face lit up, but then it dawned back to his usual plain one. Working under the Quartermaster might make it compulsory to join the Legion. He wasn't too fond of that idea, but he kept it in the back of his mind for now.."Yeah, I'll check it out now. Thanks Mr Manteeno-, I mean Mantio! Thanks." Saitama nodded towards Adratus and quickly got out the Kitchen. He could feel the glare pointed at that back and cringed at the memory of the pan again. For some reason, it unnerved him regardless if the actual hit from it did no damage at all.

Someone really had to tell the ins and out of this Fort, because he wandered for a half hour before finally getting to the supply wing. It was very big room with tables spread around everywhere. Papers were haphazardly strewn about with men and women wearing black-brown Belted Tunic uniforms. A few gave Saitama a second glance, but went straight back to work either dashing or reviewing documents. He walked forward amused at the workaholic antics of these Couriers. It was then he realized he was going to probably being doing this exact same thing. Sighing, Saitama waded through the myriad of tables and people, until he spotted a gruff man in a hybrid of Belted Tunic and Imperial Light Armor sit at a large table stacked with mountains of papers. This man was furiously writing a couple of things at an extremely fast pace, only to grab another blank piece of paper to continue to write.

"Um sir, I'm for the Courier opening?" The man looked up at Saitama, his blue eyes analyzing him as if he was Genos. Even as he was viewing the Mer, he _continued_ writing. A bulbous bead of sweat went down Saitama's head, he wondered how the hell he was doing that. "Hm, so you're that hotshot lil' Elf I've been hearing about huh?" It only took for a few seconds for the man to speak up again, not even giving time for Saitama to respond. "The name is Barolinus Sesturas. You're hired." What? That was it? No resume, no credential list off, no awkward silences? No soul crushing 'we'll consider your application'? Awesome!

"If you're wonderin' why you got on this ship so easily, all you need to know is that Skyrim is a dangerous place see. With the ramp of this civil war, the 1026th Courier division here has been losing numbers drastically. Whether it be Bandits, Rogue Mages, Forsworn, Stormcloaks, or either some Daedric Occultists.." He stopped himself from going off into a rank, remembering where he was. Looking back up to Saitama since he was lost in thought, he gave a disarming smirk. "We're gonna need all the manpower we can get." He pointed to what seemed like an Armory similar to General Tullius took him to last time albeit smaller. "That Armor you're wearing with that cape get up is non-regulation. Sorry, but you can wear a hood though. Damn uniform is the reason Stormcloaks even attack Legion Couriers, but the brass has their head so far up the collective ass they don't do anything."

"Oh, uh okay sir. I was looking for regular clothing anyway. I guess the uniform will be as close as I'll get." Barolinus nodded and went back to writing. He then perked up his head when Saitama began to walk towards the Armory. "Report to my second in command Gida Magus after you get in uniform. She'll get you all set for your employment papers and first assignment." The Mer simply raised his hand as he walked signifying he heard his new boss. Saitama entered the armory and undonned the Armor he had on. He took off the cape next, placing it on a nearby counter for a worker to assumably pick up. ' _Finally, I can get out this skirt thing. Even though I felt really free in it, the whole experience with was surreal.'_

Saitama quickly put on the fur boots, red-brown Belted Tunic, and red hood. Next he took at satchel complete with the little sacks clipped with his belt. Walking out the armory, it took him a few minutes of looking around to find this "Gida Magus". Saitama realized Barolinus only gave him name, so it made searching for her significantly longer. Soon he finally found a woman with extreme black bags under her eyes, staring off...At nothing. She seemed very pale and her raven black hair was tied into a ponytail.

Saitama didn't even give her a second thought. He thought she was just another worker. Halfway passing the almost lifeless woman, suddenly snapped to life as if revived turning to him. "You must be a new recruit." Saitama jumped back at the jumpscare, well turnscare, and rubbed his neck in nervously. "Yeah I am." Almost instantaneously after speaking, she had written a bunch of stuff down. She was more crazy than Barolinus! "Name, date of birth, age." Oh this would take Saitama to think for a second. Things months and days had different names in this planet, so it was difficult to remember them all. He told the information Gida needed after a few painstaking hours of trying to accurately remember which month was which from his world to this one.

When that was done, Gida's eye twitched a little from Saitama's ignorance. She pulled open a drawer from her table and gave him a cylindrical leather wrapped document. "This document details a specific supply transcript that will help the Legion know what paths to take and which areas are less likely to be hostile. It is to be taken to the Falkreath Camp north-west here. " Saitama sheepish rose his eyebrow. "Uh, do you have a map for that?

 **OoOoOoOooOoooO**

He hated this map. It was way too big and floppy to be of any use at all. He had a rough idea where the camp was, but it was definitely tiresome to walk in the wilderness to try to find it, only getting back on the road. Why would they set this place so far into the woods anyway? When Barolinus told Saitama that a bunch of things would want him dead out in this country, he wasn't kidding. He ran into this half crow lady who fireballs at him, which he dodged easily, putting her out of commission with one punch as always. Then a bunch of Bandits ambushed him, but they all fled once he punched two Bandits who mashed together into a gory mess. _Then_ a wooden lady with glowing green stuff came to life. The thing started shooting..Green force? Yeah, Green force at him which did absolutely nothing. Only an awkward stare off ensued, which he simply walked away from since he was used to it.

In present time, the afternoon sun slowly lowered itself as Saitama walked around aimless. At this point the map was useless because he keep going in circles. He kept it anyway since it listed the major "holds", as he was told, that he needed to be familiar with. Up the road he saw four people walk down the road. They were pretty far off, so he walked towards them. Hopefully they weren't Bandits. After two minutes he found the four people to be Legionnaires.

"Finally! Hey guys, are you stationed in the Falkreath Camp? I'm looking for it everywhere and can't find it.." The Legionnaire in front gave a chilled smile towards him. The type of smile to make a man's blood go cold. But Saitama wasn't even remotely fazed. He didn't even notice it, the smile seemed normal to him. The Legionnaires were slightly confused as to why he seemed so unaffected. Nevermind that, their job was not to give away their intent yet.

"Ah yes, of course. We know exactly where the camp is. Our patrol was just about finished." Sweet! He could finally get this job over with! The Super Mer and the four "Legionnaires" strolled into the deep foliage of greenery. For a good one hour they walked until Saitama realized it was taking an extraordinary long time. "Uh where are we going? It's been a long time. You sure you guys know where the camp is?"

It was then all four Legionnaires stopped moving. They stayed completely silent. Unnaturally it seemed as if they didn't even breath. A deep voice of malice echoed from above the treeline. "The only camp you shall find here is death!"

All of sudden an innumerable number of red-dark black clad people darted simultaneously from the treeline. A maelstorm of darts, arrows, and daggers were flung Saitama's way at practiced speeds. A plain face merely etched itself on his face. He simply sidestepped to right at the speed of light. The place he was standing at was replaced with a deadly heap of the combination mentioned above. Arrows were split in hall strewn about, the darts were lost in the grass, and daggers stung into the soil.

Every single Assassin was gripped with surprise, not understanding what just happened. These were trained disciplined killers. They quickly caught wind of the initial surprise and encircled Saitama. He casually was picking his nose with his pinky, watching the Assassins crouched down and charge at him all at once. A few stayed in the treeline to fire arrows from, while a few stayed behind to throw combusting poison vials into the fray. This wouldn't harm the fellow brethren for their armor protected them, but they were definite sure it would severely afflict the Super Mer.

Two finally reached him, raising their blades with steady experience at Saitama. The Bosmer simply punched the first one right in the lower torso, shaping a wide hole that jettisoned him straight to a tree that exploded into splinters and gore. Next he hopped a few feet in the air and kicked the second Assassin's head. The neck of the Assassin whipped back in a completely unnatural angle. His body kept running until it collapsed in an ordered heap.

Ten Assassins leaped towards Saitama all at once. This head to be an effective tactic! Whilst dodging vials and a few arrows shot his way, Saitama noticed the Ten at the last possible second.

Only a mere whisper was uttered from his mouth.

" _Normal Consecutive Punches_ "

In a blinding display of speed, it was as if Saitama's arms completely disappeared. The speed was just too much for any of the Brotherhood Assassins to comprehend. The only thing that could be partially seen at was the flurry of Saitama's punches, each strike simmering with a glow.

The punches themselves completely annihilated all ten Assassins. When the barrage from Saitama was over, no corpses were even _seen_. All the was left behind was literal mini canyons of superheated **plasma**! "What is tha-" Seconds later of being formed, the plasma indents left by Saitama imploded into fiery balls of fire. The fire caught some Archers laying down arrows at Saitama from the treeline. Their screams echoed deeply across the forest as the burnt into crisps.

The ambush party was really demoralized seeing such a feat of power, but three more ran towards him at speed that could rival a Cheetah. Saitama spread his hands out in a wide horizontal arc, then quickly slapped them together. The shockwave immediately discharged the Assassins from their course. Their bodies flung away violently as the shockwave took everything with no mercy. Vial throwers were also in the crossfire and were blown away with their brethren. Some trees flung away as well, crushing some with audible gory _**splats**_.

This fighting ensued until the moon peaked its head over the sky, bathing the whole bloodied clearing in a lunar glow. Saitama was the least bit of tired at all. Well tired in the sense of exhaustion. He was really tired of dealing with these BDSM dressed freaks mentally. Saitama stifled a yawn, another Assassin thought he could get the drop on him. The Assassin was free falling toward him from a tree with his blade streaking right toward the accursed Mer who killed most his family. He tasted his blood! **YES HIS BLOOD WOULD BE SLATHERED AL** -

A surprised grunt escaped from the Assassin's throat as this...Demon Mer bit down on the blade, completely breaking the steel. The fragments blitzed everywhere, one being catapulted straight to the dark clad Fiend's neck. He let out a blood gargled scream and crumpled to the ground.

Saitama meekly spit out the large chunk at an Archer trying to snipe him from the Treeline, catching him right in the center of his head. Seconds later he heard a loud thud signifying that Archer was dead. Saitama yawned sleepily, clearly bored despite the sea of Assassin corpses strewn about the clearing.

"So, I guess the Legends were true. You are really strong." A nordic man wearing the same outfit as the Assassins lurked out from the shadows. He wore no shoes and had very large battle axe on strapped to his back, breaking the motif of all them wielding blades. "You have killed many of my family and for that you shall pay dearly."

"Huh? All these guys are you're family? Gee they even have a variant of redneck here I guess.." Arnbjorn didn't care or understood what Saitama meant, but without matrimony he withdrew his Battle Axe from his sling and went into his signature stance.

"I will break you."

 _ **To be continued**_

 **AN:**

Guest89- Yeah I was kinda stumped on how would everyone react to Saitama after the first chapter. Well particularly the Empire. In this fanfic I scaled things up abit so the Empire is more swamped with the territories/degrading state of itself, so word hadn't passed to official Empirical channels about Saitama yet. Which is ironic since he is a well known rumor, but like the whole Gray Fox fiasco and other rumors that circulate through the millions of people, they don't react by hearsay. But since Saitama is a legitimate enigma, I will touch up on the Empire fully realizing that the rumor is not misinformation. General Tullius likes Saitama, who he definitely wants to recruit, but he is so swamped with the tourists, paperwork, and conferring with his inner command cabinet before heads back to Solitude, he kinda just lets him stay in the Keep until he can put full attention to him.

I also agree with the chopping block part. I could have Saitama refuse at the last possible second, but I really wanted to get to the Alduin fight ; )

I'll try to make the story a little humorous as Saitama gets to Solitude, where he will encounter his first Daedric Prince and in other ensuing chapters.

Guest65- The Daedric Princes are definitely either amused, angry that a mere mortal surpasses them, and intrigued at Saitama. Some Guilds don't believe the "One Blow Man" rumor, while others are very interested in it.

Ultra-Owner-Thanks for the continuous support!

Zapper3000- I'll keep at it thanks.

Shadeblade10- Thanks, I'll keep you tuned in

Guest- :D thx


	5. Chapter 5

**Sithis Guide Them- Chapter 5**

Arnbjorn welt out a battle-cry, charging at Saitama with calculated might. He was incredibly fast reaching the distance in mere seconds. He was a battle hardened Warrior, one who used the darkness to lay down his might. He was something that children were told about in horrid bedtime stories, the type of man to eviscerate anyone was sorry enough to end up on the sacrament. This bald courier, this cur, slayed his family. He will pay. Nothing less of killer intent was etched in Arbjorn's mind as his Battle Axe of Chills soared at Saitama. The ice enchantment particles practically raved stronger than a Winterhold storm. It was mere centimeters from the Bosmer...Then his head faded in a flash in seconds, completely dodging the swing. The axe cleaved straight into the dirt, bits of dirt and rock scattering everywhere.

" _What!? What in the name of Talos is this treachery!"_

With mighty strength Arnbjorn hefted his axe from the imprint and began striking at Saitama with practiced precision. Left, right, up, down, Arnbjorn swung the enchanted Battle-Axe. The flurry of strikes increased in frequency as Saitama kept dodging, mimicking every swing the Assassin dealt with inhumane amount of speed. Arnbjorn's very patience wore thin, his assault became more savage and primal. No matter what though, the Elf's face remained at an impasse. The seemingly bored expression on Saitama's face was making Arnbjorn **CRAZY**! _"Who does this whelp think he is! He thinks I am just a pushover!"_

It was then something happened. Something unexpected even for Saitama. The Nordic Assassin suddenly drew back, jumping at an olympic level pace. He furiously discarded his Battle-Axe of Chills, making the death maker sail towards an unfortunate tree, partially bisecting it as it impacted. Arnbjorn's face darkened incredibly. His already grim scowl deepened. He peered straight into Saitama's plutonic eyes, ultimate malice emanating from his being.

"You have made a grievous mistake in surviving this long. You have humiliated the Dark Brotherhood and put them out like dogs. _**We**_ are the ones who put people down like dogs. Time to die." Huh, atleast he was straight to the point unlike most villains. Saitama watched on with newly found curiosity when the older man crouched on all fours.

Suddenly black veins bulged from his skin at a rapid pace. The white hair on his head and facial area suddenly grew jet black, when Saitama noticed the hair all over his _body_ was growing at an exponential rate. It was then at the point Saitama was disgusted at the transformation he was witnessing. The black-red sleeveless armor Arnbjorn was wearing blasted in ribbons as his whole frame enlarged before Saitama's eyes. The limbs on the transitioning beast elongated, his hands turned into paws, his jaw turned into a maw, and his skin turned completely jet black. When the transformation was finally reached, Saitama couldn't believe his eyes. Before him was a living, breathing Werewolf. The stuff of cheap halloween costumes and very bad romance novels. He was starting to really like this pace.

An ear blasting howl jolted out the Assassin-turned-Beast's newly formed maw. It was then after the thing was done howling at the moon, he looked straight at Saitama. Yellow eyes from both of the Werewolf and Elf stared back at eachother, an already brewed tension raising. Arnbjorn was the first to attack, breaking into a mad four legged sprint at Saitama. By the time he was half-way near the Elf, the Werewolf faded into an afterimage appearing right behind Saitama. It raised its jaggedly clawed paw and arced straight Saitama. The Mer simply rolled away at the last possible second, but the Werewolf wasn't done yet. Arnbjorn despite his brute looking appearance was a calculated and tactically driven Warrior. He had predicted Saitama to dodge the swipe and rolled right with him when he dodged the attack. Before Saitama could possibly get out of crouching position, the Wolf was already upon him.

Arnbjorn spread his arms high up above his head and launched it in a deadly power attack. Saitama rolled away again, somersaulting backwards onto his feet. The Wolf growled in annoyance and lunged at the almighty Mer. No matter how long this battle will last, _**his**_ blood will be on his claws. Breaking the distance in seconds, Arnbjorn initiated a predatory series of strikes. If Saitama was still in the phase when his limiter was near broken, he would definitely would have been mere shredded fleshy ribbons by now.

Only heavy aired swipes could be heard in the clearing. The methodical sound of growling only heard as Arnbjorn unleashed his fury. No matter the damndest of his skill of the hunt or mere experience, this Mer would not be hit. There style in which the Elf dodged his attacks were trained, but were not graceful or well thought out. It seemed so simplistic, but it completely obsoleted all of his attacks.

"Okay, time to end this." Suddenly Saitama stopped, the claws of the Werewolf impacted Saitama's bald head….Nothing.. **ABSOLUTELY NOTHING**! His claws of Arnbjorn's left hand were _directly_ embedded in his skin. It seemed the skin itself was steel reinforced obsidian, because no blood, not familiar sound of bone breakage, and no agonized scream. The clawed hand the slayed countless people just was there. _"What is the meaning of this! What is!"_ Saitama was surprised a Werewolf could even have an expression of other than blood lust. The Beast before him seemed bathed in fear. "I have to say though, that really worked out may dodging. Shame I'm going to have to put you down." He shrugged continuing; "Sorry about killing off you're family. It was self-defense." It was then Saitama raised his fist. A revelation rocketed Arnbjorn in that moment as his animal instinct finally settled in.

He never stood a chance. The last thing he saw was Saitama's sharp elven eyes peer into his soul as everything went black.

 **OoOoOoOooOoooO**

The Hero-turned-Imperial Courier looked the smoking remains of the mighty Warrior. Half-way from the molecular breaking punch, some parts of Arnbjorn transformed back into regular man. That left a smouldering heap of human and wolf bits all around the cracked dirt. _"Gross, I definitely overdid it."_ Shivering in disgust, Saitama looked around and took in the corpses of the other Assassin's strewn about as well. He finally could really take in the carnage dealt by him, the smell of fresh liquid blood invading his nostrils.

He quickly held in a barf, holding a hand over his mouth. A few minutes passed with Saitama's calloused hand still over his mouth. Standing up at full attention, he began walking in a random direction to quickly find the camp. He had enough fighting for today. _"C'mon Saitama, you're in the some fantasy BC place. You have to get used to death.."_ Saitama could only wish his self-beration was that simple.

In his hero line of work back at Pangea, casualties was almost certainly a given. But it was usually an impersonal unfortunance to him. Now he was up close and dishing out the death, which gave him some chills down his spine, as he went into the thick wood area. It was in self-defense atleast, they did try to kill him. Sighing in exasperation Saitama continued the journey to find the Falkreath Imperial camp.

 **OoOoOoOooOoooO**

In the dead of night, Saitama drudged on warily being completely tired. The ambush lasted all afternoon to night. Saying he was tired was beyond an understatement. It was then he saw the familiar glow of fire, the source of light that was practically everywhere in this land. Saitama broke into a "slow" jog over, stopping at the pointed wooden fortifications. A surprised caught off Imperial Auxiliary jumped up in fright. He only saw the Mer a few feet away and disappear into a flash to the fortifications. Before he could even grip his Imperial Blade, Saitama delved his palm up to signal to stop. He then sleepily pointed at his uniform with his other hand. A few moments passed for the young Auxiliary to understand, before realization dawning on him.

"O-oh you're a Courier" stammered out from the Imperial. "G-go ri-ght in." Saitama nodded, he really didn't want to mutter a single word. Passing the bewildered Auxiliary, Saitama mused that he'll find a bedroll and deliver the damn document tomorrow. The local commander was probably sleeping anyway. Strolling around the large Imperial camp, he noted that activity was still high despite it being midnight. Blacksmiths could be seen maintaining equipment, recruits were exercising albeit very tired, while some soldiers walked around. It took him time to find the barrack tent due to his small size. He had flashbacks of Helgen and shuddered.

Inside the tent most of the bedrolls were occupied, but Saitama found one in the corner that wasn't inhabited at all. Warily meandering toward it, he face first collapsed on the bedroll. Some Legionnaires around him wondered why a Courier was sleeping there, but for the most part ignored him.

Saitama just wished to get this job over with.

 **An** : Sorry this late chapter, didn't have access to my computer, I was on a mini-vacay. I hope you like this chapter. I'm aware it was shorter than the last one, but this will be fixed in the future.


End file.
